


Six

by melcarn



Category: Call of Cthulhu (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Torture, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, violence is not really depicted graphically but I thought better safe than sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:35:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22398685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melcarn/pseuds/melcarn
Summary: James was forced to kill a mind-controlled friend. One of the other party members disagreed with that decision, and now he's on the run.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	Six

**Author's Note:**

> Is my first piece of fanfiction ever going to be a contextless angsty AU snapshot from my own RPG? Yes, yes it is. I was inspired, and about two hours later this existed. I can't share it with IRL people, so... here you go. Hopefully it is not too context-free to make sense. I assume I can edit, so if I get a confused comment I'll add some explanations, lol.
> 
> Do mind the warnings; this is not a happy story.

James opened the door of his new flat, scanning it automatically as he entered. He had run all the way to Europe, as fast and as quietly as he could, but he was still cautious. A movement registered in the corner of his eye. What was-

_One._

A muffled bang, and a sharp pain blossomed in his foot. James stumbled, icy terror gripping his heart. Somehow, despite all his precautions, she had found him. He wrenched himself upright, seeking escape, but she was just as deadly quick as he remembered, and soon he found himself overpowered and forced onto a chair, his hands bound behind him tightly enough to cut off the circulation. Watching the dark figure above him, he wasn’t sure he’d be alive long enough for it to matter.

“So,” Mary said, the pistol with its bulbous silencer held lightly at her side. “You killed Roy.”

James cringed. There had to be a way out. How could he convince her to release him? Lying wouldn’t help. “Yes.”

_Two._

His other foot shattered, and he bit back a cry. 

“Why?” she asked.

It was justified, he knew, it was the right decision, but how to convince Mary of that? “He was trying to kill us,” he said. “He didn’t know who we were, we couldn’t break him out of the spell-”

_Three._

A kneecap, this time, and he did yell. 

“Not good enough,” she said.

“He was dangerous,” he said, pitching his voice low and smooth through the pain. James with the golden tongue, he could convince anyone of anything, he could still do this. “He had a gun himself, he was trying to shoot us. I couldn’t risk it."

“I know how good a shot you are,” Mary said. “You got him right in the heart. You didn’t have to. You could have handicapped him, shot him in the leg. Like this.”

_Four._

His vision went white with pain as she shot his other knee. Even if he managed to talk her down - and that was seeming less likely with every moment - he’d probably never walk again.

“Please,” he said, resigning himself to the indignity of begging. “Please, I can-”

_Five._

In his torso this time, just to the side of his stomach. He screamed, spasming, and even through the pain he felt despair. He was dead now, he knew; it was only a matter of time. A long, painful time. It wasn’t immediately dangerous, but he didn’t think Mary would be giving him the medical care necessary to survive a wound like this.

“You can - what?” she asked, her voice steel. “Money? Power? Your dirty fucking ass scrubbing my floors for the rest of your life?”

She walked away, put the pistol on the table, and slowly paced back over. He tried desperately to focus on her. “You can’t bring him back. But you can pay for that. You know how this ends.”

She punched him in the gut and he collapsed, his vision whiting, only barely kept up by his arms hooked around the back of the chair. She hauled him upright again, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back to see his face. They stared at each other for a long moment, though James' vision blurred and wavered. Mary's expression softened and she turned away.

“You know what the worst part is?" she said bitterly. "I could kill you slowly. Break every bone in your fucking body, one by one. I could have you screaming and bleeding on the floor and make you beg for mercy with your last fucking breath. I’d love to.” Her hands clenched at her sides.

He hauled in shaking, gasping breaths, struggling to stay conscious. Though if he just let go, the pain would end. An increasingly inviting option, unfortunately. The part of his mind not preoccupied with pain ran in frantic circles, seeking a way out and finding none. 

“But he wouldn’t like that, would he? He’d hate it.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “He thought I could be better. He thought I could be _good._ He was the only one who did. He deserved better than me as a friend, but I’m what he’s fucking got.”

“So,” she said, picking up the pistol again. “This is for Roy.”

She trained it between his eyes.

_Six._

**Author's Note:**

> Six bullets in an average pistol, in case that wasn't clear.


End file.
